


If You Change Your Mind

by DaughterofElros



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gay Porn Hard, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 14:39:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4023652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterofElros/pseuds/DaughterofElros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny thinks Seabs is joking about wanting to sleep with him. Seabs is decidedly not joking</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Racing to get this done before puck drop, there is neither as much sex, nor as much editing (or indeed, even getting to read it through) before posting. Apologies for any mistakes, and things will be cleaned up later ( sooner rather than later if I'm not in a state of despair)

"Well, If you change your mind." Seabs says, taking a swig from his beer. Jonny shakes his head and laughs gamely at the joke. It has to be a joke, right? Because there's no way that the guy who's been his mentor, his teammate, his fucking anchor on the Hawks just told him he'd be up for sleeping together if Jonny wanted. 

He pushes down the jolt of wanting he feels at the suggestion, so tangible he can taste it. Seabs is just playing around, being a dick like the guys all do at times. He's married, after all, and Jonny happens to know that he's so in love with Dayna and his kid that he'd never jeopardize that in a million years.

Knowing that doesn't keep his mind from drifting to the image of Seabs's broad shoulders and powerful hands while he's jerking himself off in bed that night. It's not like it's a new thought either. (He used to live with the guy, after all. He's seen Brent sleepy-eyed and rumpled in the morning, seen him in half-disheveled suits after games, and knows what that honed body looks like in threadbare jeans and a worn tee. Fuck, he's even into the baggy sweats look.)

He's not a rookie anymore though, and it's been a long, long time since he let his brain linger on thoughts of Seabs in that way for more than the second it takes to push them away. Practice had made it a habit, and he's always had a good work ethic when it comes to practice.

The thing is, he's having difficulty dismissing his desires these days. It's like that one innocuous comment has made him hyper-aware of everything Seabs does... and everything he does makes Jonny want so damn much.

Seabs wraps his lips around a bottle of beer when they're out at a bar, and Jonny is spellbound by the way his throat works as he swallows, the thought of what if it wasn't a bottle his lips were wrapped around. They squeeze past each other in the aisle of a bus taking them to the airport in Denver a few eeeks later, thighs brushing, bodies close enough that there's an intimacy to it and Seabs whispers, "Really Jonny, you just have to ask." It's light and teasing, and no one else would probably read anything apart from hilarity into it, but Jonny feels himself blush and flips Seabs off the cover his reaction until he gets to his seat.

Seabs checks him up against the boards during a drill, careful not to knock the wind out of him, but Jonny still finds himself breathles. It's getting ridiculous, the way that he lets himself get distracted when he should be maintaining the boundaries of friendship and professionalism. He feels a little guilty about it (usually on days after thoughts of Seabs filter into his fantasies) and privately curses the way that he's let a few offhanded comments worm their way into his mind.

It all comes to a head during the playoffs. A bunch of them are over for dinner at Sharpy's house, something that he and Abby sometimes throw together between rounds when they're all trying to rest, but need to keep up on the balance between real life and team bonding.

It's good, all of them enjoying the food (catered, obviously, because Abby and the rest of the women know first-hand how much a dozen or so professional hockey players need to eat, and none of them are foolish enough to try to cook for this many of them at a time on short notice). There's drinking, but not enough to teeter into overindulgence, and the whole posse of kids that have been born in the last couple of years are congregated in the living room, with some of the single guys like Kaner and Shawzy, who adore kids but are still terrified of fatherhood taking the opportunity to establish themselves as the coolest uncles ever and acting as toddler jungle gyms.

Jonny isn't much for young kids. He can handle when they're tiny and fragile and thrust into his arms asleep and marvelous in their miniscule perfection, and he's pretty good again by the time they can talk and he can treat them like mini-adults, but toddlers tend to be keenly aware of how un-awesome he is around them, and steer clear as a result.

This means that even when he wanders from the patio to the living room, he's on the periphery, able to stop and observe as Sadie tugs firmly on Kaner's hair, and Sharpy teases that she has to be gentle, becuase Uncle Kaner's hair is already vanishing at an alarming rate.

He's still smiling when he catches sight of Seabs across the room, trying to figure out the remote to Abby's sound system with Bicksy. He can feel the smile fade from his lips, replaced with a yearning so intense it feels like he's frozen to the spot. Seabs looks good is the thing. That's hardly new. Seabs is one of the guys who can look good drenched in sweat and panting at the end of a long shift in triple OT. It's just... Jonny's been losing his ability to resist it for awhile now, and the combination of dark blue henley and fitted jeans that he's got going on make Jonny's mouth go dry.

It's when Seabs turns and meets his eyes that the floor drops out from underneath him. He's caught, obviously staring, opening admiring. It's a miracle that no one else in the room has picked up on it, but there's no pretending that Seabs doesn't see the raw hunger in his eyes, doesn't know that Jonny's been looking at him and wanting.

Jonny panics. There's no other word for it. He breaks eye contact and snaps into motion, threading his way through the crowd of people in the living and dining rooms and ducking into the kitchen, which is mercifully empty. 

He almost pours himself a glass of wine from the half-empty bottle on the counter, then has the thought that if he wants to continue his escape via car, he really shouldn't. A second later, he decides 'fuck escape' and pours the glass, downing half of it in a single indulgent swallow. With any luck, Seabs will forget about whatever moment or something jsut happened, and they can pretend everything is just the same as always.

His hopes are dashed a few seconds later when Seabs steps into the kitchen.

"Jonny?" he asks. "You okay?" the concern is evident in his voice.

"Yeah. Fine."

"Really? Fine?" If Seabs were anyone else, Jonny could get indignant, could hear the mild words as a challenge to defend instead of an invitation to explain. But Seabs has always had the ability to diffuse his temper and his defense mechanisms.

"It will be." Jonny promises instead. "I'll get ahold of my shit. It's just... you made that joke a few months back, and sometimes its difficult to remind myself that that's all it was. But that's on me, and I'll fix it."

Seabs looks at him, puzzled. 

"What joke?"

Jonny's cheeks are burning, the tips of his ears might spontaneously combust any second.

"When you told me that you'd be happy to help me out if I ever needed. Like... with, you know... And when I laughed about it, you said that if I ever changed my mind, I should let you know."

"Fuck, Jonny." Seab breathes, and then winces at his inadvertent choice of words. "I wasn't joking. Not even a little bit. I was completely serious. I just didn't want to push anything you weren't into. And it didn't seem like you were into the idea, so I backed off. Is it... safe to say you've changed your mind?

Jonny swallows. He's standing across the kitchen island from Seabs, and right now he's torn between two pretty equal desires to clambor over the island and haul Seabs in for a kiss, and to chug the last of the bottle of wine.

"I was always into the idea." he owns instead, watching his own fingertips on the stem of the wine glass, rolling the delicate crystal between them.

"Jonny..." Brent's voice is strangled with desire, breathless is disbelief. When Jonny looks up to meet his eyes, there's longing there, coupled with possibility and hope.

"What about Dayna?" Jonny throws out, because that's the biggest of his objections. He'd come to terms long ago with feeling desire for men (even if he's never much had a chance to act on it) and he's been forced to admit that sleeping with a teammate might be different, but it's no less detrimental than pining after one. But he's never been a cheater- the very thought turns his stomach, and he can't reconcile how much he wants to kiss Brent with how much of a fucking betrayal that would be to Dana. He can't quite believe that Brent is willing to hurt her like that either, and he expects his question to make the spark of interest in Brent's eyes flicker and die. He's even prepared for that, prepared to walk away right now.

Surprisingly, though, the smile on Seab's face just spreads wider.

"Dayna's fine with it." he answers, then in response to Jonny's that's bullshit expression he adds, "No, Really."

"Dayna's fine with what, exactly?" Because apart from plays on the ice and talking to the media, Jonny's never considered communication to be one of his strengths, so it's possible he's completely misunderstood what's going on here.

Seabs runs his hands through his hair. "Dayna's fine with me...being with other people."

"That's... generous of her." Jonny says carefully. Seabs chuckles.

"I guess you could call it generous, but it goes both ways. I'm happy to see her with other people too."

"Is this like.. a wife-swapping thing?" Jonny's heard of that before. He's also heard of a few guys having agreements with their wives that what happens on the road stays on the road. But he's not sure that what they're talking about falls under either heading.

Seabs coughs. "Not exactly?" he pulls out his phone. "I should ask Dayna to come in here. She's a lot better at explaning it than I am." He looks to Jonny for confirmation that this is ok. Jonny nods, bewildered. Seabs shoots off the text and sets his phone on the counter.

"So, we've sort of tried that? The wife-swapping thing? There's um... one other couple that we've swapped with, especially in the beginning. Still do occasionally, if everyone's amenable. But for us it’s more about relationships than sex. Like, neither of us are very good at random hookups and that.”

“We both prefer to get to know people before we get into a relationship with them. Or before we climb into bed together.” Dayna puts in, and Jonny hadn’t even heard her enter the room. it’s kind of terrifying, talking about the things he wants with Brent while his wife is in the room. She seems to pick up on his hesitation, and mercifully and efficiently fills the silence.

“Basically, the way it works for us is this. We’re married, we love each other, and we don’t see that changing. But we both date other people too, because we believe that having a deep bond with one person means you can’t have deep bonds with anyone else, and life is good. Complicated, occasionally, but good.” She leans one slim hip against the counter. “Feel free to ask us any questions you need, but there’s one thing you should know right off the bat- it’s not cheating. We’re all open and honest with each other about our relationships, there are no dark secrets, and no one is being hurt or betrayed. And if you decide that you want to be with Brent, know that you have my complete blessing and support.”

Jonny is dumbfounded. “You really… you’re really not upset or jealous,” he says with wonderment. It’s an observation, not a question, but she answers it anyway with a laugh, her dark hair sliding over her shoulder.

“Oh, I might get jealous, but mostly because I don’t get a piece of all of this.” she gestures between the two men, and Jonny feels his cheeks flush even hotter. He wouldn’t have even thought it was possible for him to blush more.

They end up talking for another half an hour, despite the fact that Sharpy’s kitchen isn’t exactly the ideal place for the conversation. He has more questions than he anticipated, and there’s more information to absorb than he can hope to process. It’s been a long time since he felt this far out of his depth, and that alone makes him uncomfortable.

At the end of it, he feels exhausted and wrung out, almost like he’s been bag-skated, and he’s in no frame of mind to make any decisions. The conversation itself is cut short when Tuevo wanders into the kitchen in search of more cheese. Jonny steps closer to Seabs to avoid being overheard.

It twists his heart to see the way Seabs’s eyes light up as he steps closer, because he doesn’t think Seabs is going to like what he needs to say.

“I don’t… I don’t know if I can do this.” he whispers. “I believe you and Dayna when you say things are good between you, but… I just don’t know if I can do it myself. I need some time.”

“Take any time you need.” Seabs says understandingly, but his eyes seem much sadder than they did a moment ago. “And if you change your mind…you know where to find me.”

Jonny really wants to kiss him in that moment, because it feels like it might be the first and last opportunity he has to do so, but he knows it would be a bad idea, and really fucking unfair to Seabs. 

 

He spends the next several days preparing himself for the next round, getting himself primed to compete both mentally and physically. Part of that, he reasons, is figuring out his shit. He spends innumerable hours tooling around on the internet, reading websites and blogs and watching videos about the things that Seabs and Dayna had talked about- polyamory, and ethical non-monogamy, relationship dynamics, and communication techniques. He reads first-hand accounts of people who are living this lifestyle and seem perfectly happy; he also reads indictments of relationships like the one Seabs and Dayna have that make his blood boil at the vitriol. He finds himself angry and indignant at the idiots on the internet, and slowly having the dawning realization that most of the encouraging statements he finds actually resonate with him. It sometimes feels like his head is exploding, and he resents it because he’s afraid that all of the angst and internal questioning are going to distract him from his game.

They drop the first game in Anaheim, and no one is happy, but it does clear one thing up for him. Being on the ice with Seabs is still the same, still comfortable and intuitive. Seabs has always been there for him-- and even following what must have felt like a pretty harsh rejection after putting himself so far out there, Seabs still has his back every shift they’re out there together.

It’s like an epiphany that he doesn’t really have time to process until he’s showered and finished talking to reporters. Seabs has always been there for him, always will be. The things that he’s afraid of- changing the team dynamic, being hurt, doing the hurting, are all things that might happen even if he doesn’t embrace the opportunity in front of him- and he’s more afraid of the fear itself than the actual potential consequences. In the second he confronts himself on that, his mind is made up.

Back at the hotel, the guys all filter off to their own rooms, or down to the hotel bar for a much-deserved drink to drown their sorrows. Seabs isn’t among the guys heading to the bar, so it stands to reason that he’s planning to turn in for the night. Jonny lets himself into his own room, splashes some water on his face, and stares himself down in the mirror to make certain he’s damn sure he wants to do this.

A couple minutes later, he’s knocking on Seabs’s door, hoping that he’s going to get a response, that Seabs hasn’t suddenly decided to go out to a bar with some of the younger guys.

He absolutely hasn’t. The door swings open after a few seconds to reveal Seabs looking tired and adorably rumpled in basketball shorts and a grey tee. He seems surprised to see Jonny, but not at all displeased.

“Hey” he says by way of greeting.

“I changed my mind.” he says simply.

Seabs blinks, startled and then wary.

“Really?” he asks.

“Yeah, Really.” Jonny can’t help but let his lips quirk into a smile. “It took me damn long enough.”

“Your words, not mine.” Seabs mutters. “You sure?”

“Yes. Completely.” once Jonny makes up his mind, he’s committed. Seabs knows him well enough to trust that.

“Okay then. Do you… want to come in?” Seabs holds the door open.

“Nah, I want to have this conversation out in the hallway,” he snarks as he pushes past Seabs, and gets the eyeroll he both anticipated and deserved.

“So I know there are about a million things we have to talk about, and maybe some of those conversations are ones that we should schedule for another time, but I just really, really want to do this first.” Seabs says in one rushed breath.

He steps forward, putting himself deliberately in Jonny’s space, and lets his eyes drop to Jonny’s mouth. 

“Fuck yes.” Jonny breathes, every nerve in his body on high alert. 

That agreement is all it takes for Seabs to push him up against the wall and kiss him, the kind of desperate, claiming kiss that speaks to months of pent-up desire and frustration, and the elation of finally getting to indulge.

His lips are firm against Jonny’s, his playoff beard scratching Jonny’s jaw and scraping the tender skin of his throat when his lips trace a path from the hinge of Jonny’s jaw to his clavicle. It’s an overwhelming sensation that sends pleasure rocketing through his body, and overload of sensation.

“Fuck talking.” Jonny gasps, fisting his hands in Seab’s shirt and kissing him back for all he’s worth. “We can talk later.


	2. Take A Chance On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seabs wants to be with Jonny. Jonny's just figured out he wants this as well.

Seabs kisses like a man possessed- hungry and desperate and like kissing Jonny might be his path to salvation. 

For his part, Jonny feels like he’s drowning in the onslaught, finds his fingers catching and clenching in Seabs’s shirt like a life raft. His heartbeat is pounding in his ears like a raging storm, blood roaring through his veins, and he can’t remember the last time he felt this alive without skates on.

The beard is a new sensation, coarse against his jaw, and he likes it. Against his throat though, when Seabs dips his head to mouth at Jonny’s jaw again, it’s like a lightning storm of pleasure crackling through his body. Everything surges to static that Jonny can’t even comprehend, a blinding light of pleasure that roars through him from the overstimulation.

“Fuck.” he groans out, distantly aware that his body is arching into Seabs, that his dick, which is thickening rapidly, is pressed against the broad expanse of Seabs’s thigh that has somehow become wedged between his own. Not that he’s complaining.

“Too much?” Seabs asks, his expression managing to simultaneously convey sympathy, amusement, and self-satisfaction. 

“Yeah.” Jonny answers breathlessly, still feeling like he’s in the process of coming back to his body. “Do that again.”

Brent obliges, putting his mouth over the pulse point and worrying the spot with his teeth, soothing it with his tongue. There’s almost certainly going to be a mark there tomorrow that will get him some chirping in the locker room, but he doesn’t give a shit in this moment, because all he cares about is the prickle of Seab’s beard against the soft, sensitive skin at his throat, and the sea of pleasure he’s lost in. He moans, and it sounds flithy and wanton even to his own ears.

“Fuck.” Seabs whispers. “The way you look like that…” His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with arousal and the dim lighting. “It makes me just want to take you apart.”

“Yeah?” Jonny forces himself back to the moment, makes himself meet Seab’s gaze. “I’d like that.”

That statement earns him another surging kiss, and another opportunity to grind against Seab’s thigh. He rides the high for a moment, lets his eyes drift closed as he chases the pleasure.

“What you got in mind?”

“I want to spread you out on that bed and get my mouth on you.” Seabs admits. “I want to make you forget everything for a minute or two- the game, the stress, even your own damn name. I want to hear you scream so loud you have to muffle it into a pillow or your own arm, and I really, really want to fuck you.”

Jonny’s face must do the thing where it goes alarmingly blank. It’s a reflex by now, one that serves him well with the media when he needs a second to process, but it doesn’t work that well in intimate situations- at least not if the way that Seabs stiffens and starts to ease back is any indication.

“Shit, Jonny- I’m sorry. I didn’t… I should have asked what you’re interested in, what you’re up for, what you’re into. I didn’t mean to freak you out by rushing into shit.”

“No, it’s good.” Jonny protests, grabbing for Brent’s shoulders to keep him close. “Really good. I’m definitely still on board. Like, intensely on board.” He rolls his hips, hopes that Seabs can tell how majorly fucking into this his body is. “I just… fuck, that all sounds amazing.”

“Yeah?” Seab’s voice is rough. 

“Yeah. I just… I might need some time to get there. To… fucking. Getting...fucked. I mean, the playoffs are not exactly the time to be trying that.” Seabs snorts in agreement. “And...I’ve always been the one doing the fucking, yeah? But… I want to… with you. ‘s part of that I’ve been thinking about.”

“This is all the shit we should have been talking about to start,” Seabs mutters, letting his forehead dip forward to rest against Jonny’s. “Dayna’s going to call us idiots for this.” He pulls Jonny in for a kiss, and it’s less frenetic, more grounding, if no less intense.

“It goes both ways, if you want.” he offers when they come up for air. It takes Jonny a moment to realize that he’s not talking about Dayna calling them both idiots, but instead… “The fucking.” Seabs clarifies. “If you want it to.”

Jonny exhales one long, shaky breath, his mind suddenly flooded with images of Brent spread out under him, eager to be fucked, begging to get Jonny’s cock in him. It’s an incredible series of mental images.

“Fuck.” he whispers, a little overcome.

“I take it that’s something you’d be into?” Seabs grins. Jonny hauls him in, crashing their lips together.

“Fuck Anaheim.” he growls against Seabs’s lips. “Fucking cock-blocks.” He grabs Seabs’s hand, pressing it against his achingly hard dick. Seabs squeezes experimentally, and Jonny hisses with pleasure.

“How about that blowjob then?” Seabs offers. “Trust me, I don’t need to get my dick in you to make you scream.”

Jonny’s desperate nod is affirmation enough.


End file.
